Reunited
by LanteanBreeze
Summary: Rebuilding his life, and sanity, after losing Talbot is a slow and painful process, but Russell proceeds with some success until miraculously, he sees Talbot again. The story of how they met and became a couple is intertwined with this.
1. Loving You, Part I

**This is dedicated to gregoryjameshousewilson (his name at the time). He thought the world was in need of more Russell and Talbot, and I agreed. :)**

Summary: Rebuilding his life, and sanity, after losing Talbot is a slow and painful process, but Russell proceeds with some success until miraculously, he sees Talbot again.

**Reunited**

**Loving You, Part I**

Some lovers keep mementos of their affection on display. Russell Edgington was no exception to this. The sealed crystal bowl and its contents were, and would be, the most cherished memento he would have in all of his three thousand years of existence. He carried it with him as he walked outside of the motel room. It swung closely by in an old leather bag Talbot had purchased for him almost fifty years prior.

_Most people wouldn't believe time flies when you are an immortal, but it does fly_, Russell thought on his way home. _It flies away, fleeing from you, differently than it does for humans. Humans live their lives based on how much time they have, but vampires... Vampires exist on a different kind of clock, counting the years the things around them have: People, eras, seasons, empires and dynasties, wars, and times of peace. Everything has its time_, he thought. And now, he and Talbot had had theirs. _It wasn't supposed to be this way._

They were supposed to conquer the world with forever as their prize. Forever. It was the joke they played on themselves when they were naive enough to believe that they could have such a thing. Russell laughed bitterly as he walked through the door of their mansion.

He felt empty. He had said goodbye in the best way that he could, with a dead hooker as a cheap substitute for the man he had loved for the better part of a millennium. He loved him still, but soon, it would be time to move on if he was to survive. And Russell was a survivor. He gently propped the crystal bowl containing his husband's remains against the pillow on Talbot's side of their bed, and then he collapsed beside it. "I don't know what I'm gonna do," he said aloud. He curled into a ball, the grief closing in on him. There it was again. Russell felt a stab of pain through his chest as if it were a stake through the heart, and in a way, it was. He would have to move on.

_It wasn't supposed to be this way_, he thought again. He reached out for the bowl and held it tightly. His mind wandered to the first time they met. It comforted him.

* * *

Talbot was the youngest prince of the Byzantine empire during the Paleologi dynasty, and Russell was the leader of a very successful mercenary detachment hired by Talbot's father, emperor Andronikos II, to fight for him as his private guard. The year was 1323 A.D., and they were in the empire's capitol city, Constantinople.

Russell's attraction to Talbot was instant. The young man had come to him for training after receiving his father's blessing. He wanted to prove himself, to show that he could be a warrior capable of holding a command one day. He wanted to restore the empire to its once held greatness, and for that, he would need to be an expert in military affairs and not just diplomacy.

Russell watched how the young man moved as he came toward him, just after dusk, for a private session. He was tall, lean, and athletic looking. _Perfect, like a marble statue_, Russell thought. "Have you ever fought a man before?" he asked.

"Yes, many times," said the young man. His voice was soft and slightly high-pitched. And his eyes... They were innocent. They had never seen the unforgiving hardness of battle, Russell was sure of it. He concealed a smile.

"When?"

"During my training," answered the young man.

"If it pleases you, please, show me what you can do."

The tall, muscular frame charged at him, and quickly the young man was subdued. He had a lot to learn if he was going to fight without dying, but Russell would teach him over the course of the coming years with a patience he reserved for no one else. He liked watching Talbot's body move. There was an artfulness to it, and a grace. Over the next year, they slowly became lovers, and Russell reluctantly revealed his true nature. "You cannot hide it from me," said Talbot. "Whatever it is you are, I want to know. You are stronger and faster than any man I've ever seen, and your touch is cold," he said, "but I like the coolness of your skin."

"And I like the warmth of yours," added Russell. He had already made the choice to start a relationship with the young man, in spite of his better judgment, so it only made sense to tell the truth. Besides, he could always glamour him if he needed to erase the memory of his true identity and their intimate times together, but he didn't want to have to do that. Russell found that he wanted someone he could share his life with, openly, after going solo around the world for so long without rest. "You're like a drink of fresh water from a spring, and I never knew I was so thirsty," he said as they laid beside each other one night. "Not until you."

"Then drink from me," beckoned Talbot. "I am not afraid."

**A/N: This story is coming in about 4 parts, with some Russell and Steve towards the end. This will be my first time writing chapters, and I'm trying to keep from making them too long, so any feedback will be very appreciated. Thanks. :)**


	2. Loving You, Part II

**Loving You, Part II**

Russell lovingly stroked the sides of the crystal bowl as he wept in bed. He remembered how his next few years with Talbot were spent in relative peace. Semi-regularly, some of Russell's wolf-men were sent out on private mercenary errands at the emperor's request, but Russell always stayed in the capital with Talbot. When some of his men questioned his ability to lead after staying behind for so long, he made examples of them. It took the others two full days to clean up the scattered remains.

Every few months, he and Talbot would have the same argument. Russell wanted Talbot to run away with him, but Talbot would only leave if Russell agreed to turn him into a vampire. Russell refused. "I like you the way you are," he said. "You shouldn't be too quick to want to give up the sun. You don't know how you'll miss it until it's gone... And what about the empire? I thought you were gonna rebuild it," he inquired. "Won't you need to be human to do that?"

"You very bluntly changed my mind. Don't you remember?" snapped Talbot. He knew Russell was placating him and he wasn't interested. He raised his hand to silence Russell before he tried apologizing for his poor choice of words during a memorable argument they'd had a good while before.

It was when Talbot still planned on serving the empire in an official capacity. Going through with an arranged marriage to a Genoese princess would be a price he would have to pay, and Russell could not stand it. He tried to get Talbot to leave with him and to forget about saving what Russell saw as a dying dynasty.

"Do you know why I came here, why I brought my wolves?" asked Russell. "I smelled death, and not just the usual kind. This empire, it'll last another 50 years, give or take, but it's gonna fall."

"If it is as bad as you say, then I am needed here," retorted Talbot. A smile of defiance slid across his face.

"You," Russell said softly. He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"You're the last son of a second wife. You're not gonna do anything special here, but with me... We could rule the world. Come with me," said Russell. "Be with me."

Russell's voice was gentle and his usually hardened eyes were kind. He wanted to give Talbot the life he felt he deserved, a life traveling the world with him, but Talbot was livid. He was not used to being openly insulted. He had become accustomed to Russell's blunt nature, and even found it refreshing at times, but this time Russell had gone too far. He kicked him out of his bed chamber and refused to see him for weeks.

* * *

Like a moth to a flame, Talbot was drawn back into Russell's arms over time. Within a month, he wanted to see him again. He started taking walks in the palace garden at dusk, knowing that eventually Russell would arrive to walk with him, as it had been a part of their nightly routine. On the third night, after an hour, Talbot began to have doubts when Russell didn't show. He slowly passed by the fountain and rested his shoulder against one of the pillars holding up the portico.

The sky was dark, and clear, without a cloud in sight, and the moon shone down on him with a glare. The air was still, and his heart felt like a heavy rock resting against his diaphragm. He was surrounded by the beauty of one of his favorite places in the world, and all he could think about was Russell. He closed his eyes and took in the cool air of the night while he measured his breathing to calm himself. After a short while, he sensed something. He kept his eyes closed, almost as a sign of faith, and spoke.

"How do you do that?"

The words fell from his mouth like a child falling into his father's arms, expecting to be caught. A few seconds passed.

"Do what exactly," he heard.

Talbot opened his eyes and saw Russell standing there as if he had never been gone.

"That," he replied. "What happened to my guardsmen?"

Russell smiled. "You mean the men you have protecting you, keeping you away from me? I persuaded them to leave, one by one." He noted Talbot's curious stare and stepped in closer, only a few inches away. "There's still a lot you don't know about me," he said as he gently placed his hands on Talbot's shoulders and searched his face with his eyes.

"Do you really believe that I couldn't come and see you anytime I wanted? I gave you your space. I don't do that for anyone," said Russell. "There are a lot of things I would do for you that I wouldn't do for anyone else."

Russell pulled Talbot in tightly against him and kissed him hard on the mouth. Talbot tried to wrestle free and resist, but it was useless. Russell grabbed the hair on the back of Talbot's head to hold it still and pressed in harder, sliding his tongue in between Talbot's lips. Talbot almost opened his mouth at this point, but instead he became passive. He wasn't ready to like it again, even though he did like it, and Russell's heightened senses were keenly aware of this. He could hear Talbot's heart pumping faster and feel the heat of his skin intensify. He let go of Talbot's hair and pulled away.

"My offer still stands," he said. "I take great care of the things that mean something to me, and you would mean the most."

He hesitated for an instant, something uncharacteristic of Russell. "I could make you want me right now, but I won't. I would never do that... Not to you," he said solemnly before leaving Talbot there, breathing heavily with his hands on his hips, feeling something halfway between mild disgust and a lustfully deep arousal, and unsure of what to do.

* * *

The next day the news spread through the palace that the empire had lost Prusa to the Ottomans. During the centuries, the once formidable Byzantine empire had lost much of its strength to its many battles with surrounding territories ruled by other countries, and to make matters worse, the emperor's grandson seemed not to want to wait his turn as next in line for the throne. They were currently in a state of "peace" where they co-ruled the empire with the emperor staying in the capital city. His namesake resided in Thrace and ruled his portion from there. All of this left the empire vulnerable, and the Ottomans seemed to be closing in.

"Your father should have let that nephew of yours move forward with his plan to stop their siege. It would have been better than the disgraceful alternative," said Russell. He rolled onto his side and reached over Talbot's sweaty chest to select from an assortment of olives piled into a bowl.

"You know that was never going to happen," Talbot replied. "They are barely on good terms as it is."

Russell rolled an olive between his thumb and index finger, examining it. He hovered over Talbot, gliding the olive across his lips, and then pushed it between them, watching it disappear. "I love watching you eat. The smell. The need to chew. It fascinates me." He kissed Talbot, then nuzzled his cheek against the side of his face. He relaxed beside him in what he came to think of as their bed.

"What do you think will happen next," Talbot asked sincerely. A wrinkle etched itself across his brow.

Russell didn't have a care in the world about it. In more than two thousand years of existence, he'd seen many kingdoms and empires rise and fall. His desire was that they all keep fighting until they all die, but he wouldn't tell Talbot this. He decided instead to entertain the question.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the newer, and perhaps slightly improved, Andronikos III decided to end the peace and go to war again with his grandfather to take the throne over this. That loss was an embarrassment, but then, so are some of the other losses _the empire_ has sustained over the years. It's a horrible trend, and I don't see it changing."

"Then why did you decide to take up my father's employ? Why help if you think we will lose in the end?"

Russell sighed. He could hear the tension and distress in Talbot's voice. They had just made up, and he cared more about that than anything else.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Russell said. He got out of their bed and began to dress. "I think I'll take my leave. The sun's coming up soon, and I'm hungry."

Talbot watched as Russell slowly put on this clothing. For better or worse, he wanted to be with him, and he didn't know what that meant. He had never been in love before.

"Last night, you said you could make me want you. If you have that power, why wouldn't you use it?"

Russell stopped. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then he replied nonchalantly before leaving. "Well isn't is obvious?" he said as he prepared to exit through the window with his back to Talbot. "I love you."

**A/N: Two more chapters coming, and hopefully I can have them both up within the next 2-3 weeks. I made this one longer, as requested by someone, and I hope it's okay. I'm still trying to strike the right balance for how long chapters should be. Thanks for reading, and as always, any feedback is welcome. :)**


	3. Losing You, Part I

**A/N: Sorry for this taking forever, but life got really busy right when I thought I would have some time for regular writing. This story will get completed, though. And I expect for that to happen this month. Thank you for being so patient. **

**Losing You Part I**

"I won't leave unless I am turned. The wedding cannot be held off for much longer, so you need to make a choice. It will either be her or you," Talbot said during another one of their arguments.

Russell wouldn't answer. Instead, he turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

"I know it may be hard to believe in the safety of the palace, but there's a little war to fight since your nephew seems keen on taking the empire away from its current possessor. I have orders from your father to take my wolves and head out to the peninsula of Haemus. We've got some work to do there."

"I am coming with you," said Talbot testily.

"As you wish," replied Russell.

He was used to Talbot asserting himself into his father's military affairs lately. A few months prior, Talbot decided that his training had come to an end and it was time to see what he was made of. He demanded to join Russell's wolves on some of the mercenary missions they were sent out on.

Russell wasn't surprised. He figured the time would come when Talbot would want to prove himself, and he already had a plan in place to keep him safe. So far, it had been working.

He assigned his head wolf, Baldomar, to track Talbot and assist him if necessary. Talbot had selected a small group of wolves that would be at his command as they went into battle. Each time they went, Baldomar jumped into the fray and successfully protected Talbot, who would come back fuming at Russell. Russell would then glamor his beloved into forgetting that Baldomar was ever there, and each time he would apologize for doing this, knowing that Talbot would not remember. He would have glamored him into not desiring any action in battle at all, but he knew such a sudden and drastic change in Talbot would raise too many suspicions.

* * *

During the thick of the battle, Baldomar watched as Talbot prematurely gave orders to join in, breaking away from their strategic position to aid Russell and his larger group of men. They were to remain ready to join in if, and _only if_, Russell and his men looked like they were losing their advantage. Russell had been very clear about that as they reached the peninsula of Haemus, but Talbot couldn't wait. Baldomar eased into the fighting, defending himself as needed, to fight alongside Talbot. But before he could get there, he saw Talbot miscalculate his opponent, and there his foe had the only opening he needed.

The blade of the sword sliced through Talbot's side, taking him completely by surprise. Baldomar thought of leaving right then, but fearing Russell, he pursued the opponent and slew him. Immediately afterward, he left, shifting into a wolf and disappearing into the forest. Russell could sense Baldomar leaving, as he had taken his blood so Russell could track him, like all wolves under Russell's domain are required to do. Russell did not bother to pursue him for failing to defend Talbot. There was a more pressing concern to attend. He could sense Talbot slipping away.

Like a slow-motion daydream, Russell watched from across the battlefield as Talbot fell backwards, arms flailing outward, with blood spattering from his side. Without thinking, he quickly snapped the necks of the men he was fighting and was there, holding him, before Talbot's body could hit the ground. He ripped the skin on his wrist open with his teeth and tried using his blood to heal the wound, but Talbot had already lost too much blood. He looked into his eyes and could see that he was about to lose consciousness.

It would be the last time he would see the young man's human eyes staring back at him.

"Save me," Talbot said. The breathy whisper was barely audible. Something had to be done, and Russell no longer had a choice. He quickly rushed into the wooded area of the forest, carrying Talbot, and began the ritual of turning him into his progeny.

Without their leader, Russell's men retreated, and the territories they were sent to help protect fell into what would be the next Byzantine emperor's hands.

* * *

The next night, a cold hand sprang up from the soft earth, and an old life was shed for a new. Talbot dug himself out of the ground and looked at Russell, who came out of the grave behind him and stood there, looking him over.

His eyes had changed, and his skin was pale. He was different, Russell noted, but still the same. He smiled a weak smile at his new progeny.

"Well, this is what you wanted," he said with a sigh. "You have a lot to learn, but first you need to feed. Come with me."

They traveled back into what had been the thick of the battlefield. All the while Talbot noted his increased senses and how "alive" he felt. He had never experienced anything like it. He almost felt giddy. He was amazed at how fast his body was able to move and how clear everything was to him under the cover of the trees and an almost pitch-black sky. The moon was a tiny crescent, and as he looked up at it, he saw it in such detail that he stopped and gasped.

"You'll have plenty of time to look around later. _Come._"

Talbot felt himself being drawn to Russell in an odd way. It was like his body was acting without his consent; it just followed. _How peculiar_, he thought. He wanted to ask Russell about this, and he was about to, but then he smelled blood. They were close to where the battle had taken place, and he felt a deep, insatiable, hunger within him. He had never been so hungry in all of his life. Immediately, he was consumed with the need to feed as the smell became stronger.

They had traveled several miles, Talbot was sure of it, and he didn't feel tired at all. He felt as if he had spent no more effort than to have taken a leisurely stroll through the palace garden. As they reached the edge of the wooded area of the forest, Russell raised his hand to stop Talbot. They stood there and looked over the sea of bodies left behind. In certain areas, a few shallow graves had been dug, with bodies carelessly piled in, the earth just barely covering them.

"What is happening? Why haven't all of dead been buried? Why—"

"Shhh," said Russell as he looked. Some of the bodies still splayed across the field showed signs of having been partially eaten by wild animals. He closed his eyes and listened for movement, then opened them again to examine the edges of the battlefield once more.

"I think we're okay. There doesn't appear to be anyone of consequence left. We'll be free to take our fill and move on."

"They are all dead."

"No they aren't. Some are still alive, just too wounded for travel. I can still smell fresh blood."

Talbot looked around at the mass of bodies sparsely piled against each other. He saw blood, and insects, foul smells, limbs missing bodies, and bodies missing limbs. The look of slowly rotting corpses was quite repulsive, and if he could have, Talbot would have looked away, but the carnage was all around him.

"The answer to your question is that the winning side only bothers to bury their dead. You'll notice from the garments that these are all our men. They belonged to the empire," he said as he kicked a foot out of his way and continued sifting through the carnage with Talbot.

"Then why wouldn't we bury our own—"

Russell chuckled to himself. Talbot huffed. He knew an obvious answer was shortly coming from Russell. He put his hand on his hip and waited.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. I know you're still new to this, but I've seen this for so many years… Whatever soldiers for the empire there were that survived had no time to bury the dead. They were too busy trying to make sure that they left the field with their own lives."

"Then I will bury them, for their service," said Talbot.

"That's nice of you, but you'll want to feed first. You need your energy. You don't want to get the bleeds."

"The bleeds?"

"I'll tell you about it later. Just look around and find someone to feed on. I'm going to do the same."

Russell was quickly out of sight, leaving Talbot slightly abandoned. The new vampire looked around for a promising victim.

"Help, help me," he heard somewhere in the distance on his left. Immediately afterward, there was a small cry full of alarm as fangs punctured skin and a mouth drank. Talbot could hear it all as if he were an inch away. For a moment, he was mesmerized by this new ability, but then he was overtaken by the hunger. He closed his eyes and searched with his ears. He heard soft, rattled, breathing coming from not too far behind him and short, deep, sighs straight ahead. He turned around.

He approached a man a few years younger than himself. From just a few feet away, Talbot could sense the heat blazing from his dampened skin. The man noticed him, and his rattled breathing turned to a whimper. He held out his hand, hoping for help with sitting upright. There was a plea in his eyes, but he didn't speak. Talbot knew what to do, but going about doing it was different. Taking a life in battle was one thing, but this man was unarmed. He had fought on their side. And his eyes... Talbot felt what he had to do was akin to slaughtering a pet animal before consuming it, or worse, eating it alive. The act was something he had never done and thought he should never have to do, but_ the hunger... _

Decidedly, he took a step. The next thing he saw was Russell at the man's body, having broken his neck.

"I was going to feed on him," Talbot said taken aback.

"It would have made you sick. Didn't you smell him?"

"Yes. He smells like he is dying."

"_Exactly._ That means don't drink. His blood is infected. Only feed on the diseased if you absolutely have too." Russell looked around and smelled. "There's still fresh blood here."

Talbot just stood there, not quite knowing what to do.

"Well, find it," said Russell. "You've got to learn to use your senses... _Correctly_. Don't worry. I'll be with you this time."

Talbot took Russell to the closest sound of breathing. They came upon the labored breaths Talbot had heard a bit earlier. This man was heavily bruised and one of his legs was bent at an odd angle.

"I woke up and it was dark. Everyone is gone or dead, except you," the man said with effort. It was obvious that he was in a tremendous amount of pain, the kind of pain that takes everything from you, even the will to cry out. There were no visible signs of injury aside from the bruising and the twisted leg.

"Must have been a stampede, probably when our side retreated," Russell said under his breath. He looked at Talbot. "Well, go on."

Talbot looked at the man lying there helplessly and in pain. He rationalized that he was ending the man's suffering, and so that made taking his life okay… even kind. His fangs protracted as he stepped closer to the man and the smell of fresh blood became stronger. That's when he saw fear flash across the man's face.

"What are you?" the man asked, with his voice trembling, as Talbot descended upon him and tasted the metallic sweetness of human blood for the first time.

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with this story if you have. And of course, any feedback will be welcome. :) **


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